Drabbles of the Seamus and Dean variety
by 2spiffy
Summary: Just some Seamus Dean drabbled, I plan on putting up a second chapter.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This is just a bunch of short Seamus and Dean stories I wrote. My sister and I would think of an idea for a story, like so and so gets jealous, and then we would each write a story about it. That's how the cool kids waste their time. Anyway, this is them. :)**

_1. Always be a Reason:_

"Dean, why do ya draw?" Seamus glanced at his friend curled up by the fire, and waited for him to respond. Dean just shrugged, not bothering to look up from his sketch. Seamus poked him. "There has to be a reason."

"Ok." Dean finally looked up, giving Seamus a glare. Seamus grinned, waiting.

"I don't know Shay, I've always drawn when something bad is going on. When I was a kid, my parents would take me to the park to play, but none of the other kids wanted to play with me. They thought I was weird, and they would tease me. It was mostly because I was a wizard, and though they didn't know that, they knew I was different. It didn't help that I'm horrid at making friends..so I would draw instead." He ducked his head, not embarrassed by what he just shared, he was never embarrassed around Seamus, he was just done saying what he had to say. Seamus sat for a moment, satisfied with the answer. Then a new question came to mind.

"What about now?"

"What?" Dean gave him a sideways glance, and upon seeing the expression on his friends face, put his sketchbook away. He wasn't going to get any drawing done answering questions, and he could tell Seamus had a lot of questions. He wasn't bothered though, it was nice talking to Seamus. He has such an earnest way about him.

"Well, I guess what I mean is, why do ya draw now?"

Dean's face darkened. "Voldemort."

"Aye." Seamus's face paled at the use of the name. For a moment they sat in silence, pondering the directions their lives were taking. A war was coming, everyone knew it.

"After the war," Seamus didn't bother disguising the truth with ifs, "You won't have much of a reason to draw anymore."

Dean sighed at looke at his naive friend before smiling.

"There will always be a reason to draw."

_2. Dean and Seamus..on a train..can't think of a title...:_

I gripped my luggage tightly as I hurried through the crowd. I was heading to the train for my fourth year at Hogwarts, and I was running a bit late. I finally reached the barrier and scampered thorugh, not bothering to check if any muggles were watching. I just barely managed to jump onto the train before it let out a puff of steam and began to chug away. I breathed a sigh of relief, now to find a compartment. I passed by compartment after compartment, not seeing any I felt like entering. Finally I found one that at first glance appeared to be empty. I slid the door open and jumped.

"Dean!" I roared, embracing my friend. "I thought you were going to be a bit late this year!" I was ecstatic to see my friend, even though it had only been a week or two since I had last seen him at the Quidditch World Cup. That trip had ended badly though, what with the Death Eaters, so it didn't count as a proper visit.

"My mum and dad got scared after the World Cup and decided Hogwarts was the safest place for me, and I could just skip the wedding." He grinned at me before turning to grab his ever present sketchbook. "I have something to show you."

I glowed with happiness at seeing my friend, and being allowed the honor of seeing what he drew. He didn't trust anyone else, I was the only one.

"It's you. At the world cup." He blushed as I took the picture from his hands. I stared at the drawing, which was indeed me. From my permanently singed hair, to my small nose, to my freckled cheeks. My expression was one of pure excitement and energy, my body tense ready to spring into motion.

"Do you like it?" Dean shuffled his feet nervously.

"Aye, it's amazing!" I grinned, grabbing him into another hug. He squirmed, trying to break free. I held on a moment longer, knowing how much he hated being hugged and such, before letting go and holding out the picture.

"You can keep it." He gave me a grateful look, always surprised when I enjoyed his work. He scooted away, noticing the look on my face, trying to dodge the hug he knew was coming. I smirked at him, before grabbing his face and planting a huge wet kiss on his cheek. He shoved me away, blushing like mad while I laughed my arse off. This was going to be an excellent year.

_3. Homesick:_

I bounced down the length of the train, ecstatic to be finally be going to Hogwarts! The place I had been dreaming of since I was wee listening to my mum's stories as she tucked me in. I passed my a few compartments full of older kida, and finally found one that was empty except for a lone dark skinned boy. He appeared to be my age, so I barreled inside.

"Mind if I sit?" I whistled a bit on the s, having just had a tooth knocked out. I had tripped over my luggage on the way to the station, and my mum hadn't had time to fix it. I had strict instructions to see the nurse and get it fixed as soon as I could. The boy glanced up, eyes wide. He stared at me for a second before nodding and turning his eyes back to the book his lap.

"I'm Seamus. Seamus Finnigan." I grinned, waiting for the boys response.

"Dean. Dean Thomas." He whispered, not bothering to look up. I watched him for a moment, he was drawing a picture. I tried to see what it was, but he turned it away.

"What are ya drawin?"

"Nothing."

"Can I see?"

"No. I'm not done." He gave me an irratated look, like it was obvious. I sat back and glared at him. He glanced up and saw me staring. We looked at each other for a moment, neither of us moving, before I dived towards him. I scooped the picture up, leaping back out of his reach. He made a grab for it, but I swatted his hand away. Turning it over, I studied it. It was a picture of a family. A mom, a dad, and a child. The were in a line, holding hands.

"Is this your family?" I looked at his stony face. He refused to answer me, just sat and stared at the floor.

"It's a good pitcture. Better then I could draw."

"Of course it's better then you could do, you look like you couldn't sit still long enough to write your own name let alone draw a decent picture." I heard a snort and gave him an incredulous look. Where had that come from? He just sat and smirked.

"Aye, that's true." I smilied sheepishly. "Do you miss yer mum? I miss mine." I glanced wistfully our of the moving trains window, surprised I had said that. It was true though, already I felt the pangs of missing my family. Dean didn't reply, he just took the picture gently from my hand, smoothing out the creases. He gazed at it, before stowing it away and retreiving a fresh sheet of paper.

"What's your family like? Start with your mum."

"She's like me I spose' cept she has long hair. It goes all the way down her back, and she pins it up all the time." I smile, imagining her. My mum. With her elfish features and freckled skin. It was a moment before I realized what Dean was doing. He was drawing me a family, just like his. Maube I wouldn't mis home as muich as I thought.

_4. Argument:_

"Seamus sit still." Dean Thomas gave his best friend an exsasperated look as he sat in the common room. Seamus glared at him, he hated being told what to do.

"And what if I don't?" His accent becoming thicker the angrier he got.

"Look, I know you're pissed at Harry, but you've got to calm down." Dean spoke quietly, knowing his words would do no good. Seamus had a horrid temper, and he hated having to deal with it.

"Of course I'm angry, he insulted me mum."

"Maybe it's because you called him a liar." Dean snapped, losing his patience. He liked Harry, and he didn't want to be between this fight, having to pick sides. He always seemed to be stuck in the middle, picking sides, and it was always because of Seamus.

"Wha, do ya agree with Potter then?" Seamus snapped, throwing down his quill and rising to his feet. Dean was thankful they were the only ones around.

"Maybe I do." He stared Seamus in the eye, which allowed him to see the hurt flash threw his best friends eyes. He almost apologized, but then Seamus's face morphed into one of pure rage.

"Well what don't you go buddy up with him? Why don't you go join that damn Golden Trio? You could go around spreading their lies and insulting people's mums."

Dean didn't bother to reply, he felt a bit sick. He hadn't meant to make Seamus angrier, he just couldn't help it. He looked down at his paper, his hands had started sketching something. He always sketched when he felt angry, sad, or hopeless. He sketched to avoid any sort of confrontation.

"Well!" Seamus bellowed, annoyed at Dean's habit. Annoyed he wasn't fighting back. "Would ya stop drawin and look at me! Stop bein such a coward! Stop hidin in those stupid drawins and face me!"

The words stung, and Dean felt his chest tighten. He knew Seamus didn't really mean it, but it still hurt to hear his best friend say those things, mostly because he knew he was right. He knew he should look up, he knew he should face him. He shouldn't let him have the satisfaction of being right...but he didn't. He just continued to draw. He heard Seamus sigh in frustration and then stomp of, out of the common rooms, most likely in search of a worthy fight. When he was sure Seamus was gone he looked up, then turned his attention back to what he was sketching. It was a picture of him and Seamus, sitting by the lake, laughing. He crumpled it up and tossed it in the fire. Damn Seamus Finningan and his fuckin temper. With that Dean stood and strode off to bed.

_5. It's ok to Laugh:_

I ran from the Great Hall, tears blurring my vision. I heard laughter behind me, it sounded like everyone was laughing. Laughing at stupid little Seamus Finnigan, the idiotic first year who couldn't do a thing except blow stuff up. I skirted around a prefect, feeling the first tear slide down my cheek. Finally I collapsed in an empty hallway, satisfied I made it far enough away from the laughter and teasing. I held my breath and squeezed my eyes shut, doing my best not to sob. I couldn't control it though, and tears being to stream down my face as I imagined I was home in my mum's arms. Not here, not so far away. All of sudden I heard a sound, a footstep. I jumped and wiped tears off of my face. I didn't want to give anyone who found me the satisfaction of seeing me cry. I turned and saw Dean. He looked a little embarrasses, but he always looked that way. It was part of being so shy.

"Are you ok?" He walked over and sat down beside me, crossing his legs and foliding his hands in his lap.

"Aye." I managed to choke out before another sob escaped my throat. I ducked my head, ashamed.

"It's ok if you cry." He assured me, but I shook my head. It wasn't ok.

"Only babies cry." I sneered at how pathetic I sounded. No wonder they laughed at me.

"Don't be silly, everyone cries." He responded, smiling warmly at me. I don't know why, but hearing him say that made me feel a bit better about it. He just sounded so sure of it.

"Aye. I suppose so." I smiled back, wiping my eyes with the back of my hand. "I can't do anything right." I moan, thinking back on what the others had said.

"I think you do fine. Don't listen to what they say. The only person who does EVERYTHING right is Hermione, and she does better then all the older kids."

"Everyone was laughing at me." I wimper, shuddering at the memory. We sat in silence for a moment, and I galnced over to see what Dean was doing. He appeared to be considering something. Finally he looked over at me.

"I wasn't laughing." He whispered, before standing up and dusting off his pants. I sat, thinking about what he said, then realizing it was all I needed to hear. Standing up I grabbed his hand and pulled him back to the Great Hall, smiling the entire way.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: This is just a bunch of short Seamus and Dean stories I wrote. My sister and I would think of an idea for a story, like so and so gets jealous, and then we would each write a story about it. That's how the cool kids waste their time. Anyway, this is them. :)**

_1. Always be a Reason:_

"Dean, why do ya draw?" Seamus glanced at his friend curled up by the fire, and waited for him to respond. Dean just shrugged, not bothering to look up from his sketch. Seamus poked him. "There has to be a reason."

"Ok." Dean finally looked up, giving Seamus a glare. Seamus grinned, waiting.

"I don't know Shay, I've always drawn when something bad is going on. When I was a kid, my parents would take me to the park to play, but none of the other kids wanted to play with me. They thought I was weird, and they would tease me. It was mostly because I was a wizard, and though they didn't know that, they knew I was different. It didn't help that I'm horrid at making friends..so I would draw instead." He ducked his head, not embarrassed by what he just shared, he was never embarrassed around Seamus, he was just done saying what he had to say. Seamus sat for a moment, satisfied with the answer. Then a new question came to mind.

"What about now?"

"What?" Dean gave him a sideways glance, and upon seeing the expression on his friends face, put his sketchbook away. He wasn't going to get any drawing done answering questions, and he could tell Seamus had a lot of questions. He wasn't bothered though, it was nice talking to Seamus. He has such an earnest way about him.

"Well, I guess what I mean is, why do ya draw now?"

Dean's face darkened. "Voldemort."

"Aye." Seamus's face paled at the use of the name. For a moment they sat in silence, pondering the directions their lives were taking. A war was coming, everyone knew it.

"After the war," Seamus didn't bother disguising the truth with ifs, "You won't have much of a reason to draw anymore."

Dean sighed at looke at his naive friend before smiling.

"There will always be a reason to draw."

_2. Dean and Seamus..on a train..can't think of a title...:_

I gripped my luggage tightly as I hurried through the crowd. I was heading to the train for my fourth year at Hogwarts, and I was running a bit late. I finally reached the barrier and scampered thorugh, not bothering to check if any muggles were watching. I just barely managed to jump onto the train before it let out a puff of steam and began to chug away. I breathed a sigh of relief, now to find a compartment. I passed by compartment after compartment, not seeing any I felt like entering. Finally I found one that at first glance appeared to be empty. I slid the door open and jumped.

"Dean!" I roared, embracing my friend. "I thought you were going to be a bit late this year!" I was ecstatic to see my friend, even though it had only been a week or two since I had last seen him at the Quidditch World Cup. That trip had ended badly though, what with the Death Eaters, so it didn't count as a proper visit.

"My mum and dad got scared after the World Cup and decided Hogwarts was the safest place for me, and I could just skip the wedding." He grinned at me before turning to grab his ever present sketchbook. "I have something to show you."

I glowed with happiness at seeing my friend, and being allowed the honor of seeing what he drew. He didn't trust anyone else, I was the only one.

"It's you. At the world cup." He blushed as I took the picture from his hands. I stared at the drawing, which was indeed me. From my permanently singed hair, to my small nose, to my freckled cheeks. My expression was one of pure excitement and energy, my body tense ready to spring into motion.

"Do you like it?" Dean shuffled his feet nervously.

"Aye, it's amazing!" I grinned, grabbing him into another hug. He squirmed, trying to break free. I held on a moment longer, knowing how much he hated being hugged and such, before letting go and holding out the picture.

"You can keep it." He gave me a grateful look, always surprised when I enjoyed his work. He scooted away, noticing the look on my face, trying to dodge the hug he knew was coming. I smirked at him, before grabbing his face and planting a huge wet kiss on his cheek. He shoved me away, blushing like mad while I laughed my arse off. This was going to be an excellent year.

_3. Homesick:_

I bounced down the length of the train, ecstatic to be finally be going to Hogwarts! The place I had been dreaming of since I was wee listening to my mum's stories as she tucked me in. I passed my a few compartments full of older kida, and finally found one that was empty except for a lone dark skinned boy. He appeared to be my age, so I barreled inside.

"Mind if I sit?" I whistled a bit on the s, having just had a tooth knocked out. I had tripped over my luggage on the way to the station, and my mum hadn't had time to fix it. I had strict instructions to see the nurse and get it fixed as soon as I could. The boy glanced up, eyes wide. He stared at me for a second before nodding and turning his eyes back to the book his lap.

"I'm Seamus. Seamus Finnigan." I grinned, waiting for the boys response.

"Dean. Dean Thomas." He whispered, not bothering to look up. I watched him for a moment, he was drawing a picture. I tried to see what it was, but he turned it away.

"What are ya drawin?"

"Nothing."

"Can I see?"

"No. I'm not done." He gave me an irratated look, like it was obvious. I sat back and glared at him. He glanced up and saw me staring. We looked at each other for a moment, neither of us moving, before I dived towards him. I scooped the picture up, leaping back out of his reach. He made a grab for it, but I swatted his hand away. Turning it over, I studied it. It was a picture of a family. A mom, a dad, and a child. The were in a line, holding hands.

"Is this your family?" I looked at his stony face. He refused to answer me, just sat and stared at the floor.

"It's a good pitcture. Better then I could draw."

"Of course it's better then you could do, you look like you couldn't sit still long enough to write your own name let alone draw a decent picture." I heard a snort and gave him an incredulous look. Where had that come from? He just sat and smirked.

"Aye, that's true." I smilied sheepishly. "Do you miss yer mum? I miss mine." I glanced wistfully our of the moving trains window, surprised I had said that. It was true though, already I felt the pangs of missing my family. Dean didn't reply, he just took the picture gently from my hand, smoothing out the creases. He gazed at it, before stowing it away and retreiving a fresh sheet of paper.

"What's your family like? Start with your mum."

"She's like me I spose' cept she has long hair. It goes all the way down her back, and she pins it up all the time." I smile, imagining her. My mum. With her elfish features and freckled skin. It was a moment before I realized what Dean was doing. He was drawing me a family, just like his. Maube I wouldn't mis home as muich as I thought.

_4. Argument:_

"Seamus sit still." Dean Thomas gave his best friend an exsasperated look as he sat in the common room. Seamus glared at him, he hated being told what to do.

"And what if I don't?" His accent becoming thicker the angrier he got.

"Look, I know you're pissed at Harry, but you've got to calm down." Dean spoke quietly, knowing his words would do no good. Seamus had a horrid temper, and he hated having to deal with it.

"Of course I'm angry, he insulted me mum."

"Maybe it's because you called him a liar." Dean snapped, losing his patience. He liked Harry, and he didn't want to be between this fight, having to pick sides. He always seemed to be stuck in the middle, picking sides, and it was always because of Seamus.

"Wha, do ya agree with Potter then?" Seamus snapped, throwing down his quill and rising to his feet. Dean was thankful they were the only ones around.

"Maybe I do." He stared Seamus in the eye, which allowed him to see the hurt flash threw his best friends eyes. He almost apologized, but then Seamus's face morphed into one of pure rage.

"Well what don't you go buddy up with him? Why don't you go join that damn Golden Trio? You could go around spreading their lies and insulting people's mums."

Dean didn't bother to reply, he felt a bit sick. He hadn't meant to make Seamus angrier, he just couldn't help it. He looked down at his paper, his hands had started sketching something. He always sketched when he felt angry, sad, or hopeless. He sketched to avoid any sort of confrontation.

"Well!" Seamus bellowed, annoyed at Dean's habit. Annoyed he wasn't fighting back. "Would ya stop drawin and look at me! Stop bein such a coward! Stop hidin in those stupid drawins and face me!"

The words stung, and Dean felt his chest tighten. He knew Seamus didn't really mean it, but it still hurt to hear his best friend say those things, mostly because he knew he was right. He knew he should look up, he knew he should face him. He shouldn't let him have the satisfaction of being right...but he didn't. He just continued to draw. He heard Seamus sigh in frustration and then stomp of, out of the common rooms, most likely in search of a worthy fight. When he was sure Seamus was gone he looked up, then turned his attention back to what he was sketching. It was a picture of him and Seamus, sitting by the lake, laughing. He crumpled it up and tossed it in the fire. Damn Seamus Finningan and his fuckin temper. With that Dean stood and strode off to bed.

_5. It's ok to Laugh:_

I ran from the Great Hall, tears blurring my vision. I heard laughter behind me, it sounded like everyone was laughing. Laughing at stupid little Seamus Finnigan, the idiotic first year who couldn't do a thing except blow stuff up. I skirted around a prefect, feeling the first tear slide down my cheek. Finally I collapsed in an empty hallway, satisfied I made it far enough away from the laughter and teasing. I held my breath and squeezed my eyes shut, doing my best not to sob. I couldn't control it though, and tears being to stream down my face as I imagined I was home in my mum's arms. Not here, not so far away. All of sudden I heard a sound, a footstep. I jumped and wiped tears off of my face. I didn't want to give anyone who found me the satisfaction of seeing me cry. I turned and saw Dean. He looked a little embarrasses, but he always looked that way. It was part of being so shy.

"Are you ok?" He walked over and sat down beside me, crossing his legs and foliding his hands in his lap.

"Aye." I managed to choke out before another sob escaped my throat. I ducked my head, ashamed.

"It's ok if you cry." He assured me, but I shook my head. It wasn't ok.

"Only babies cry." I sneered at how pathetic I sounded. No wonder they laughed at me.

"Don't be silly, everyone cries." He responded, smiling warmly at me. I don't know why, but hearing him say that made me feel a bit better about it. He just sounded so sure of it.

"Aye. I suppose so." I smiled back, wiping my eyes with the back of my hand. "I can't do anything right." I moan, thinking back on what the others had said.

"I think you do fine. Don't listen to what they say. The only person who does EVERYTHING right is Hermione, and she does better then all the older kids."

"Everyone was laughing at me." I wimper, shuddering at the memory. We sat in silence for a moment, and I galnced over to see what Dean was doing. He appeared to be considering something. Finally he looked over at me.

"I wasn't laughing." He whispered, before standing up and dusting off his pants. I sat, thinking about what he said, then realizing it was all I needed to hear. Standing up I grabbed his hand and pulled him back to the Great Hall, smiling the entire way.


End file.
